The Storm Outside
by Dark Blaze1
Summary: It's a stormy night, and it's a night of reflection for the boys. POV. Shonen-ai & het. Pairings implied.
1. Children of Rain

The Storm Outside: Children of Rain By Dark Blaze  
  
Pairings: shonen-ai, implied pairings Warning: spoiler for episode zero and possible spoiler for the series (Revised 06/24/02) (One "major", noticeable change in consideration to Dyna Dee's comment)  
  
I never told anyone what it is about rain that fascinates me. If you can call it that, fascination. Because it's not fascination, not exactly. More like being drawn. But none of the others know that. All they know is that every night when it rains, I wake up, open the window wide, and lie back down to watch the dark, wet world outside as the damp, cool air fills the room with the sound of shower on earth. And when it's a rainstorm, I'll sit by the window, draped in a blanket, to watch, until morning comes. Or at least until the storm passes.  
  
Heero, my roommate, once caught me staring outside when it rained. It was during the war. He didn't tell me until about three years later. He also mentioned - more like mumbled - something about eyes glowing in the dark like lurking death. Sometimes he's amusing like that.  
  
Trowa caught me sitting by the window once during a night storm, when we were assigned together and stayed in a safehouse which one and only bedroom happened to have no window, and I had to settle with sitting in the living room.  
  
Wufei did once too, when I partnered with him on a Preventer mission and had to room with him. And for once, just for that one time, he didn't ask and didn't comment, didn't even grumble about "injustice" or "baka's" or "letting the cold air in" or "water-damage" or even "not enough rest before the mission can get your ass fried". I think, in his own way, he understood.  
  
They all think - or thought - it's the rain itself that fascinates me. The notion of so much water being poured so liberally over earth.  
  
You see, I came from a colony. L2. Also known as the dump in space, no disrespect meant. I love that place, I really do. It's my first home. And despite what most people think, it was where most of my happiest memories took place. But I'll still be the first to admit that L2 is the filthiest, poorest colony that ever exists.  
  
Let me explain this a bit. Water, is the first essential thing that makes a place feel clean and live-able. Air is the second essential thing.  
  
There isn't much water in the colonies to begin with. Never was, never will. We don't have springs or rivers or lakes, despite what most people think. Earthlings have no idea how lucky they are, honestly. On Earth, people have fresh, natural air to go with the fresh, neverending supply of water. I know you're thinking "fresh?" and are giving me that doubtful look. Trust me. I know about the pollution and all that crap, but that's nothing compared to what the colonists have to deal with. People on Earth are so used to this luxury that they take it for granted. It's hard for them to imagine what it's like in the colonies.  
  
Well, in the colonies, the air is artificial and has been recycled at least five times. It smells faintly plastic and metal, and, on the occassion of the circulator system breaking down, smoke. Tastes like that, too. The water is very limited and has been recycled at least ten times the air. It's thicker than Earth's water, slightly turbid, and faintly acidic.  
  
I see your grimace. Don't worry. It's still safe for drinking. Besides, you get used to it.  
  
But see, that's how it is in the colonies. Now imagine it to be ten times worse than that. The air heavier and more suffocating, with filth hanging so thick you can taste it in your mouth. The water so rare that you'll be glad for even a little drizzle because that means you'll have your first bath in at least two months, even though after you collect the water, you'll still have to wait until at least fifteen other younger kids have taken their turn before you can use that same bucket of water to clean yourself. That's what L2 is like.  
  
Yeah. Now you know what I'm talking about.  
  
L2 is a dump. I'll be the first to admit that. No one in their right mind will want to live there, and no one should. At least it's better now that the war is over, and 'Lena-'Jousan constantly manages to coax the fat- pursed fat-bellied pompous aristo-rats to spare a trickle of their wealth for L2 kids.  
  
Yeah, I really despise authorities that much, especially the politi-asses who will argue for hours over petty things but are reluctant to spend even a minute when it comes to orphans, widows, and the like.  
  
What can I say? We just aren't couple-material. Thankfully, we have 'Lena- 'Jousan who's more than willing to speak and fight for those kids tooth and nail, sometimes almost literally.  
  
As much as I seem to complain constantly about my homeland though, I'm still grateful that I was raised there. I have lots of reasons, but the most obvious one is.. Well.. No disrespect meant, but if I'd been raised elsewhere, say L4, I don't think I'd have survived the war; I know I definitely wouldn't have been anywhere half the pilot I was. Now don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with Q's homeland, and Quatre himself was one hell of a pilot; he was almost as good in that as he was - and still is - as a strategist. L4 is more than an okay home. It's just that street- life, and Solo and Father and Sister, made me the kick-ass Death Harbringer I was, the best among the best pilots, and the person I am today.  
  
You're probably thinking now that I had it easy there. You can't be more wrong. I won't compare my life to Heero's, who had been trained to be a fucking machine - no pun intended - when he was still supposed to be playing football or basketball with other kids, or at least playing with the swings in the park. Or Trowa's, who never even remembered his real name and already had to fight in a war he didn't really understand for as long as he could remember. Still, I'm not raised a spoiled brat (I'm not pointing fingers here). I had my share of a harsh life, too.  
  
I still remember the times when I was still on the street and we would go to sleep hungry at night and wake up to see one more of us had died during the night from malnutrition and the lack of sanitary. Or the times when we were lucky enough to have a drizzle because the Control felt like seeing a little rain, and we would play outside, knowing it would be colder than usual that night but feeling happy anyway because for the first time in months we could wash away a bit of the grime and slime, and for at least one week afterward we would be able to get past the shopkeepers a bit easier because we would be cleaner and wouldn't smell so badly.  
  
And there were times when me and Sister Helen and Lam and Kim and the other older kids would go outside to collect the raindrops so we could bathe that night and have fresh supply of water to drink and cook. Oh, the Colony did sell bottled water for the last two purposes even back then, but the Church didn't have enough fund for it. Sometimes we didn't even have enough to feed all the children twice a day. On those days, Father and Sister wouldn't sit at the table to eat with us and would simply assist the younger children with what little portion they had so that not even a little bit of the precious food would be wasted. On those days, when we happened to have bread or biscuit, some of us wouldn't eat ours at the table right away. At night we would slip out of our rooms one by one in a silent agreement to deposit our little "treasures" in Father's and Sister's rooms. In the morning-afters of those nights, Father and Sister always greeted us with their eyes shining a bit too bright, the "you shouldn't" hanging from the tip of their tongues but still left unsaid because they knew it didn't matter and we would keep doing it anyway, and they gave us extra hugs.  
  
We didn't do it for the extra hugs. We did, because they had done it first for us.  
  
Sorry. I degressed.  
  
But yeah.. With sanitary condition like that, I'm sure you can understand if I tend to enjoy my showers and baths a bit too much. The others often protest when I hog the bathroom for almost an hour, but inside, I know they understand.  
  
I remember the first time I had the chance to take a real, decent shower on Earth using clear, fresh water. It was in Peacemillion - the sea-ship, not the battle-ship - soon after I'd arrived on Earth on the rigged Operation Meteor. I stayed exactly fifty five minutes in the shower - forty five minutes under the spray after I was done with the real cleaning - and thirty two more minutes afterward just to enjoy the pleasant feeling of freshness and clean-ness (is that even a word?) of after-shower. I got out only after Howard threatened to install the dancing hippo-in-pink-tutu virus in Deathscythe if I didn't come out immediately. Of course, I know, knew, that he wouldn't. He loved the big guy almost as much as I did. Besides, he knew even back then that I was one hell of a hacker, programmer, and mechanic; I could and would make his life a living hell - not literally - for months - or at least days - if he'd carried out his threat and messed with my gundanium partner.  
  
So I tend to exaggerate. Sue me.  
  
By the way. In case you're wondering, I did make Heero's life at school a living hell for two days after he took Deathscythe apart - you don't want to know how, trust me - and I did send Trowa the dancing hippo in a pretty package with a shiny red bow after I found out that he had been the one who'd blown my partner to pieces. It took him four full days before he gave up trying to neutralize the virus alone, asked for reinforcement from Heero and Wufei (that took another three days), then finally just begged Quatre to persuade me to rid him of the non-stop dancing hippo. He did, of course, and in case you're wondering, yeah. I did. Took me less than a day.  
  
What can I say? I'm a sucker for puppy-dog eyes. Besides, Quatre does have a way with words to make you see things his way. I guess that's why he's the strategist and I'm not. And no, trust me. You really. Really. Don't want to know.  
  
Back to the original topic though.  
  
Rain reminds me of L2, the kids, Father, and Sister. But that's not why I'm drawn to it. Not many people know this, but AC 195 wasn't the first time I ever set foot on Earth. My first was about a year before that, when I was still with the Sweepers.  
  
What? You didn't really expect us to spend those two years from 193 to 195 just drifting about in space without porting anywhere just so G could train me, did you? Hell, we were the Sweepers. It would have been very conspicuous if we just abandoned business. Besides, it brought an extra income, so it had a double benefit.  
  
Anyway.  
  
It was summer. We got goods to deliver to Earth. We landed in South Carolina, drove to North Carolina, and stayed in a friend's place. It was only for 48 hours, but we didn't feel like refusing the offer of free food and lodging, fresh water and air, plus a bit of sight-seeing. Besides, his place was at the countryside and a bit isolated. It was safe, and it wasn't like we would draw too much attention. So we went.  
  
That night I got to see a real rainstorm for the first time. It was. Absolutely. Amazing. It was everything I said before. Rain pouring so hard, it drenched the entire world, droplets pounding the soil as if to punish it, forcing it to relent and form small, muddy puddles, lighting flashing, showing glimpses of Nature in an eerie glow, thunder grumbling and rolling in deafening booms, wind blowing and howling in high pitches like tormented ghosts...  
  
But all I could see was the rain. Wet. Water. Lots of water. Lots of fresh, clean water.  
  
I left the house for a walk. It wasn't the smartest thing I'd done, but I did.  
  
It didn't take long before I was drenched, and I started to shiver from the cold wind's assault. The strange thing was, I didn't even give a damn. In fact, I almost yelled all out in delight, as nerdy as it sounds. L2's drizzles always felt a bit sticky and warm. This Earth rain... It was harsh and relentless and freezing and fresh and smelled like freedom and... It was.. just...  
  
Even now I'm still at a loss of words.  
  
I let my feet carry me away, deeper into the storm, and out into the hills. In the distance, I could see the lighting flash closer and closer, followed seconds later by the deafening growl of the thunder (which, now that I think about it, sounded a lot like Wu's growls but a lot louder). They were incredible. Powerful. Nature at full blown rage. Frightening and mighty and majestic and liberating at the same time.  
  
We don't have lighting or thunder in the colonies.  
  
I had never walked in full-force storm like that before. It was much more tiring than I'd thought. I finally decided to rest under a tree.  
  
For the first time I realized that it was getting late, and the others probably were starting to wonder where I was. As much as I didn't feel like going back, I knew I had to, or they would start looking for me. As it is, I would probably have to face G's scowl. Much as I was grateful for everything he'd done for me, and much as I respected him, that guy had a nasty way of using sarcasm to make you feel like a total idiot. So I decided to turn back then, and I did.  
  
I hadn't even taken ten steps when the lighting struck.  
  
One second, everything was fine, and I was still on my feet.  
  
The next second, I was on my butt on the ground, shaking and staring at the had-been tree.  
  
My mind was blank for eons, and I couldn't move.  
  
When I finally remembered to breathe, and my sanity returned...  
  
I remember it vividly everytime I look back. How I had this calmness about me that only a real shock could induce as I slowly stood and stared. I wasn't shaking anymore, even though my eyes stayed wide open, and I didn't remember to blink. My braid had become undone, and the wind tugged at my hair, swirled it, pulled it, and spun it around me, the wet strands whipping against my back, arms, and legs. My wet clothes were plastered to me like skin-tight leather. And I simply stood and stared at the black, burnt stump of the had-been tree, knowing I had been standing underneath it only seconds ago.  
  
Above me the thunder rolled again.  
  
I don't know how long I stayed there, standing and staring, but in the end I simply turned around and left without saying a word, without shaking, and without breaking down. I don't think the gravity of the situation had really registered in my mind then. Or maybe it had.  
  
The guys and G saw me return dripping wet, but none of them said anything. Not right then, and not ever afterward. Later on they would tell me that I'd been gone for only about fifteen minutes or so. It felt like eons.  
  
Since that night, I have had this strange connection with rains in general and rainstorms in particular. I somehow know when they'll come and how long they'll stay for a visit. It was pretty handy back during the war; I often used it for tactical advantage against my enemies. After a while, even the others - when they stayed with me - relied on my sixth sense to decide what kind of explosives they'd use and how they'd slip into the enemy base, destroy the said base, complete the mission, and all that shit.  
  
So yeah. As unrealistic as it may sound to you, I didn't get traumatized. I certainly didn't develop a phobia, or G would've replaced me right away. And no, that's not the reason why I'm not scared of rain or rainstorm. This fascination is real, if you want to call it that. The others do. I don't.  
  
I don't know what to call it, and I don't know how to describe it. I'm just drawn to rain. It's hypnotizing, and much more. It's like.. I have this psychic link with the rain, and I just.. know.  
  
It's weird, I know. I don't blame you if you don't understand. None of the others really do, I think. Maybe except Trowa. He's a bit like me, only with him, it's the snow.  
  
So now you know why every night when it rains I just have to go and open the window then lie back down and let the rain hypnotize me. Or when it's a rainstorm, like tonight, I go to curl up quietly on my favorite seat by the window, draped in a bedsheet, and stare at the relentless shower outside, the lighting striking occassionally and without warning, giving me glimpses of the wet world.  
  
"Duo...?"  
  
"Hm?" The bedsheets whisper softly behind me as my roommate slowly sits up on the double-bed and blinks sleepily at me. I know, even though I'm not looking at him.  
  
"It's almost three. What are you.." There's a pause. He's more awake now, and he knows. "Rainstorm?"  
  
"Hai."  
  
"..Will it rain tomorrow?"  
  
I smile at the storm outside. "Don't worry. It will stop by morning, just in time for the wedding."  
  
"..Ah."  
  
The pause hangs thick in the cold, damp air. I can feel his eyes on me, intense yet soft, watching me. I know he wants to, but he won't ask me to come back to bed. He knows enough by now to realize that I can't, won't. I know it's not sleep that he has in mind, though. He just wants to be with me tonight because of what will happen tomorrow. Especially because of that.  
  
He's sweet like that.  
  
I turn slightly to look at him with the genuinely happy half-smile only he ever sees and offer him my hand. Surprise shines in the depth of his beautiful blue eyes along with a little disbelief. It's replaced almost immediately with joy.  
  
He gets up, the blanket around him and dragging on the floor with a soft rustle, and comes to me to take my hand. I scoot over a bit to give him room. We end up curling against each other, him practically sitting in my lap, his cheek resting on my shoulder, his arms around me just like mine are around him. His eyes, like mine, are transfixed at the storm outside.  
  
"Utsukushii, ne..." he whispers after a while, his voice almost inaudible, warm breath caressing my cheek. [1]  
  
Outside, the lighting flashes.  
  
"Hai," I whisper back. "Sou desu yo." [2]  
  
Both of us fall silent then, entranced.  
  
He doesn't ask me again about the storm or the rain. He doesn't ask if I'm sure it'll stop before our wedding. Somehow I know that he knows now at heart that the Rain will stop by dawn so Her children's union can take place outside in St. Helen Chapel's garden among the summer blooms, just like we planned. Neither of us are worried.  
  
The thunder's rage ceases softly, and the rain continues to fall for the rest of the night.  
  
~OWARI~  
  
[1] "Utsukushii, ne". It's beautiful, isn't it. The emphatic "Ne" is to ask for confirmation. [2] "Hai. Sou desu, yo". Yes, it is. The emphatic "yo" is to emphasize an agreement. 


	2. Desert Child

The Storm Outside: The Desert Child By Dark Blaze  
  
Pairing: shounen-ai Warning: sap & possible spoiler (Revised 06/24/02)  
  
The storm is raging outside.  
  
I wake up shivering at the chill seeping into the room and tug the blanket tighter around me, careful not to wake the Greek god sleeping beside me. The lightning flashes outside, followed by the rolling thunder. For a split second the light chases the shadow to the corners of the room, and I can see that the windows are wide open, the curtains flapping almost wildly, settling briefly, then starting to dance in the wind again.  
  
I look at my lover and can't help but smile. He must have forgotten to close the windows again before he fell asleep. Not that I can blame him, really. How can I? I was the reason he forgot.  
  
I know I'm watching him now not just with admiration and wonder but also with pride.  
  
The lightning flashes again.  
  
I stiffen slightly then lie back down, briefly entertaining the idea of getting up to close the windows. It's too cold though. I don't have any clothes on at the moment, and I'm not about to brave myself into the chill air just to close the windows. I'm not about to rob my lover off our only blanket and his own comfort either. Besides, if I move too much, he might awake. He's not really a heavy sleeper, and he's still very much a soldier. All of us are; the Preventers have made sure to keep us that way.  
  
I know I'm making excuses. But really, much as I frown at the thought of water damage, among other things, I just don't feel like getting up to close the windows.  
  
I start to sound like Duo.  
  
I snuggle closer to my god-like lover and wonder what my best friend is doing right now. We all know what he does at nights like this, even though I am the only one who has never seen him during his ritual. I wonder though if he will stay in bed tonight, in favor of some rest for his big day tomorrow.  
  
Maybe not. Knowing him, I'd say he is, like Trowa once told me, at the moment sitting by the window watching the storm.  
  
The lightning flashes, followed three seconds later by the growling thunder.  
  
I snuggle closer to my lover.  
  
I have never admitted it to anyone, but storms actually make me a tad anxious. It is not a phobia. Really. It's simply that I'm a desert child. I was born and raised in a land where water was a precious commodity, and lightning and thunder were not quite relevant in everyday life. Not like this anyway.  
  
I suppose in a way I am like Duo, though our different backgrounds, not to mention personalities, result in two very different reactions toward the storm. Duo embraces it like a lover. And I, I shy away from it.  
  
Duo once teased me that this anxiety wasn't the only reason why I much prefered snow to rain. Looking at my lover now, I can't help but wonder if there was a truth in his jest.  
  
The thunder booms right outside the window.  
  
I start and freeze for a split second before diving instantly for the safety of my lover's arms.  
  
"Quatre...?" Sleep-induced green eyes blink at me lazily. "What is it, Little One?"  
  
I try to smile despite the racing of my heart. "It's nothing, Trowa. Just the storm."  
  
Anyone else would have laughed at me. Me, the CEO of WEI, the heir to the throne so to speak, the young man who has several times united five lone warriors into a strong force that saved Earth and the Colonies more than once. Me, Quatre Raberba Winner, ex-Gundam pilot, the Preventer's most priced strategist, afraid of the storm. They would have doubled with laughter. They really would.  
  
Trowa simply pulls me close to him and holds me. Later, he might smile in amusement and tease me about this in private, but right now he doesn't say anything.  
  
"Sorry I woke you up," I whisper against his bare chest, my eyes closed, my pulse still racing. I can't help but breathe in his unique scent, pines and campfire and musk. His heart beats steadily beneath my ear until my own heart answers it in the same rhythm.  
  
"It was the thunder," he replies quietly against my hair.  
  
The thunder roars again, right above us now, but I no longer jump.  
  
"We didn't close the window," he murmurs absently.  
  
I nod slightly. "I wonder if it will stop before tomorrow morning," I muse, purposefully ignoring the storm outside now in favor of my favorite object of distraction. My finger traces a little pattern only I can see on Trowa's chest. I feel more than hear the faint catch in his breathing, and my lips curve slightly. "Duo will be really disappointed if they have to cancel the outdoor ceremony."  
  
"They both will," Trowa replies, his hand catching my wandering finger, and my smile grows.  
  
"Mm." I watch as my hand twists slightly in Trowa's grasp so I can hold his hand back. Our fingers entwine finally, and he brings mine up to press his lips lightly against my knuckles. He doesn't pull his hand away or let mine go afterward, though. That in itself tells me everything I need to know for now. It still amazes me sometimes how much his gestures say what his voice doesn't.  
  
"Trowa?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Have I told you how much I love you?"  
  
I can feel him smile this time. "Not in the last five hours or so." While we were asleep.  
  
I chuckle softly and pull away slightly to look into his eyes. "Well, I do. So much." I bring his hand, still locked with mine, to my lips and mimic his affectionate gesture earlier. "Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you..."  
  
"Are you going to give me another self-depreciating speech, Raberba?" His lips are still smiling, but there's a faint warning in the beautiful emeralds that are his eyes which meaning only I know.  
  
I have read too much of Catherine's Harlequin romance collection.  
  
I shake my head slightly and smile softly at him. "Nein". No.  
  
Trowa is the only person who knows how low my self-esteem really is. He doesn't like it, and he doesn't hide his dislike. I admit that in the beginning of our encounter, I chased him like a young and spoiled school boy with a crush. I was drawn to his quiet strength, and I followed him for all the wrong reasons, despite what I kept telling myself and those around me. I wasn't really strong then. I just pretended to be strong. It's different now, though. Since meeting him, he has helped me build my true confidence, and though I appear less certain with myself now to outsiders, inside I'm becoming stronger than ever. He knows this, and he's pleased with it, though every so often his eyes still flash with a faint warning when he thinks I'm going for another relapse, which happens less and less often now.  
  
The thunder rolls in the distance, and this time I no longer care.  
  
His eyes soften slightly, and he kisses me gently. It speaks clearly what his voice doesn't. It's enough.  
  
But then, to my pleasant surprise, he conveys what I know with words.  
  
"Ich liebe dich, Quatre. Gestern, heute, und morgen." I love you. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow.  
  
I smile happily and kiss him back, my breath a whisper against his lips. "I know. Love you, too."  
  
I know the phrasing of his promise is strange, but that's my Trowa. He doesn't believe in the promise of forever. To him, forever is too vague, without any clear boundaries. Forever can end in a second, when the implied meaning no longer suits the situation. However, tomorrow has a very clear boundary. Tomorrow is the day after today, the future. "Yesterday, today, and tomorrow" is his way of saying "always have, always will, always and forever", and I love him for it. I love him, period. All of him, quietness, strength, little quirks, and all, just like he loves me for everything I am.  
  
What can I say? I'm as much of a sap as he is. Or maybe it's him who is as much of a sap as I am. We have that effect to each other.  
  
The thunder rolls in the far distance. The growl is faint now, almost inaudible. The storm has passed.  
  
I close my eyes and snuggle against my Greek god again [1], relishing in the feel of his arms around me, his heartbeat strong and steady against my ear.  
  
Outside, the rain continues to wash over Earth.  
  
~OWARI~  
  
[1] Generally I make Trowa an L3 native or a French. In this one, he's from Europe though not necessarily Greece or Germany; Quatre just happens to think he looks like a Greek god, and Trowa himself just happens to know German. 


	3. The Spirit of Water

The Storm Outside: The Spirit of Water[1] By Dark Blaze  
  
Pairings: shonen-ai & het Warning: Spoilers of episode zero. (Revised 06/24/02)  
  
It rains outside.  
  
I suppose that is a statement of the obvious, for there is indeed an enermous storm at the moment, right outside my window.  
  
Indeed, it seems the heaven has opened its gate, and Yu Shih, the Master of Rain himself, is emptying the content of his watering can over Sank. Tien Mu's mirrors dance in her hands, flashing bolts of lightning one after another, as she floats across the sky. Lie Tsu and Lie Kung follow her from a distance, the beats of their drums booming every several seconds in an incomparable epic performance. And among them, the wind flows, sometimes in a whisper, other times in a howl, and even then, at times it seems to remain still. But the wind is never still, for Feng Po never ties up the mouth of his large sack, in which he carries his wind. The wind is like a child, prancing and dancing in whichever direction Feng Po directs her to. [2]  
  
It is difficult to sleep through a storm as magnificent as this. Mei would have called it annoyingly loud. She actually did once, when the Weather Control of our colony decided to experiment with an artificial storm. I suppose it was only logical that they did their experiment at night, considering it was the time when most of the colonists were asleep, people who had never before, not even once in their life, witnessed a storm with its booming thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. Unfortunately, for this very reason as well most of the colonists were jolted awake in the middle of the night during the experiment, adults and children alike cowering in their beds in fear and confusion. Not Mei, though. My brave but disrespectful wife scowled and complained about the deafening noises that had disturbed her sleep. I can easily imagine her abandoning her morning practice the next day in favor of heading for the Weather Control to give them a piece of her mind for interrupting her rest. She was a very spirited woman, for a woman she was, trapped in a child's body.  
  
I never told her how much that storm had entranced me, artificial and short- lasting as it had been. I wish she were still alive to come to Earth with me, so she could see Earth's natural storm with her own eyes. It is much more powerful and majestic than that one and only artificial storm back home. It reminds me much of her, her boldness, bravery, and inner strength. I wonder if she would agree. She always knew her worth as a warrior, but she knew little of her worth - and place - as a woman. She was stubborn, and she often spoke without thinking. It was a quality I admired of her though. I regret that I never had the chance or will to tell her how much I loved and respected her. We were both stubborn and childish.  
  
Another flash of lighting, followed too closely by the booming thunder. The storm is almost right above us now.  
  
I wonder if the others are awake. I know for certain one of them is. Maxwell is drawn to rain and storm more than any of us are. I have seen his face and the withdrawn focus with which he watches the play of thunder and lightning in the middle of the pouring rain. I have always known him to be deeper, stronger, and smarter than anyone has ever given him credit for, but until that night when I saw him watching the storm, I never thought him capable of such single-mindedness. I knew, even as I watched him then, that he was fully aware of my being awake; his training and his past didn't allow him the otherwise. He didn't say anything though, nor did he stiffen as he usually does when waiting for me to break the relative silence with a scowl. It was as if at that moment, nothing else mattered to him but the storm outside. This single-mindedness, more than anything else, kept me silent.  
  
I still don't know for sure what draws him to rain and storm. His fascination is different than mine, though our ways of reacting to this forces of nature are much the same. I have no doubt that at this very moment he is sitting by his window, watching and listening the performance outside as if it were presented for his eyes and ears only, much like I am standing here by the window right now, the cold wind whispering against my face and the droplets of water spraying across my shirt and skin.  
  
Many people today are still supertitious, and I have no doubt that if they were awake and aware of the storm outside right now, they would say it was a bad omen for the ceremony tomorrow. Indeed, it seems as if the gods themselves were enraged and insulted at the moment and were throwing fits and tantrums all over Earth. At least it would seem as much to some. Knowing what I know about Maxwell though, I would think that instead of a sign of rage, this storm is an orchestra created specifically by the Ministry of Storm for him. The thunder may be deafening, and the lightning's flashes sharp, the wind chilling, and the downpour relentless, but the entirety of it is more magnificent, majestic, and powerful than usual. It is frightening to imagine what will happen if the lightning strikes us. Even with all the additional security Maxwell and Yui have added to the palace, I doubt we will be able to survive the assault of pure energy in this magnitude.  
  
This in itself should probably have evoked my concern, but I am not worried in the least. Despite all appearance, this storm feels relatively safe, somehow, and I know we will survive it. Therefore, I'd like to think this as a sign that the gods are rejoicing for my dear friends. It is their gift for him and his soulmate. In my eyes, at least, it appears as much.  
  
The rain is pouring harder now, the water spray soaking me. I suppose I should close the window and go back to sleep. It is already nearly four in the morning after all. I have been awake for approximately three hours now. I probably should return to bed soon, considering tomorrow I will be Maxwell's best man. Relena will mock me if I appear ragged in the ceremony.  
  
I can't help the smile gracing my lips at the notion.  
  
Yui and Maxwell came to me three months ago, not too long after Maxwell's marriage proposal, and told me of their uncertainty about whom to choose among their friends to be their best men. They wanted it to be the three of us, Barton, Winner, and I. After all, they told me, it would not be fair to leave any of us behind, as we were equally important to them.  
  
In the end, all the five of us gathered to discuss this. We decided that if the "bride" and the groom wanted the three of us as their best men, they shall have that. So it comes that I am Maxwell's best men, and Barton and Winner are Yui's. Maxwell gave me the wedding ring for safe-keeping two days ago. It has never left my person since. Reaching into my pocket now, I can feel two velvet boxes, one red and round, the other deep blue and squarish. The red box belongs to my best friend. The other one...  
  
Maxwell would laugh at me if he ever found out. I have carried the box with me for two weeks now but have yet to gather up my courage to offer my own proposal. It is not that I am afraid she will refuse. I have known her enough to know it will make her happy, and I have known her enough to know our marriage will work, if she accepts me. She may have once been spoiled and childish, but she has changed, and I do not hold her past against her, contrary to what many think. I was once childish and arrogant as well. I have no right to judge her for past mistakes.  
  
She has grown a lot through the years we known each other. She has matured, though still maintaining the inner strength and vitality that I admire of her. She is as stubborn as I am, driven, and full of wits. She may not have been a soldier, but she has witnessed the horrors of war first hand, and she is as much a war child as any of us are. She has had her own share of hardship in life, and like us, she has prevailed in her own way.  
  
Today she works among politicians, the type that Maxwell despises the most, and yet somehow, though having to play their games of wits and word manipulations and petty arguments everyday, she manages not to become one of them. She is truly the gem of Hope in the government for every single one of the poor and the orphans she battles for.  
  
And yet, despite all these, I still find her able to smile genuinely and appreciate the little things in life. When the opportunity represents itself and she is able to step down her throne and takes the cloak of leadership off her shoulders, she will laugh like any youth her age, and she willingly plays in the mud with us commoners as if she were a commoner herself. She is a princess in every sense, and I love her for it.  
  
Knowing this then, why am I still hesitant to ask for her hand?  
  
Mei truly would laugh at me and tell me I am such a typical for men, that I am all words but have no courage for things that matter. Of course, if she were alive, she would know as I do that that is really not the case. That hardly matters, though. She would say it still, if only to provoke me into doing what I am hesitant to do.  
  
I can't help but smile at what I imagine would be her reaction. Tomorrow after the ceremony, if not tonight, I will, I promise her spirit. I can almost hear her laughter and her assurance that she will make sure I fulfill that promise.  
  
I am starting to close the window when I hear the door knocked. Maybe it is Yui having the pre-wedding jitter, though I doubt it.  
  
"Come in."  
  
The door is opened. It is Relena.  
  
"Hey." She smiles, slightly hesitant, showing her true age.  
  
I smile back, letting her know her presence is welcomed.  
  
She closes the door and approaches the window and me.  
  
"Unable to sleep?"  
  
She shakes her head slightly, her hair, still long though without the bangs now, swaying softly. "It's nearly impossible to sleep through a storm like this." She stops by my side. "You?"  
  
"I couldn't either."  
  
She nods slightly, her eyes staring outside, and for a while she is silent. "..I hope it will stop before the ceremony tomorrow."  
  
"It will." I can't help but smile again. She has come a long way from the spoiled youth who chased Yui in a desperate attempt to find her personal hero and anchor in her crumbling world, to the mature and open-minded lady that she is, whom everyone relies upon today.  
  
The thunder flashes again outside, though it sounds a bit distant now. The worst of the storm has almost passed.  
  
"Lie Kung," she exclaims quietly, almost as if it were unintentional.  
  
I know better. I glance at her, see her smile, and feel my own lips pull to an answering smile. "I would think that was Lie Tsu."  
  
She shakes her head and looks at me through the corner of her eyes, her mirth sparkling within the blue of her eyes. "It sounded too brash, the sign of the arrogance of the youth."  
  
"Oh? It sounded more like the pride and arrogance of age to me."  
  
She laughs then. "You are supposed to show respect to your elders, Chang Wufei."  
  
I smile at her. The verbal exchange has become a common sport between the two of us long enough that neither of us take offense anymore. "I do show my respect, in my own way."  
  
She grins and looks at me fully, her lips parted as if to reply with another witty remark, but something she sees catches the words, and her grin fades away. "Fei..."  
  
My own mirth dissipates. This is the moment I was waiting for. I can feel Mei nudging me and insisting that I do this now. Strange, how nervous I feel, even knowing what her response most likely will be.  
  
"Relena..." I have to pause to recompose my voice. I know now how Maxwell felt those months ago. "I have something for you."  
  
She doesn't say anything, though her expression speaks volumes. She looks as anxious as I feel.  
  
I pull the square box out of my pocket and place it in her hand. The world stops.  
  
I watch in silence as she slowly opens it, her hand slightly unsteady. It seems a century has passed before she finally has the box fully opened and its content unveiled for her full view. It takes another century before she finally looks back at me, her eyes all too bright.  
  
And suddenly the words flow easily on their own past my constricted throat.  
  
"Will you marry me?"  
  
She nods. At her smile, the world starts to rotate again.  
  
I lift the golden ring from its box, and she offers me her left hand. It is still slightly unsteady as I slip the ring through her finger. Her eyes and her smile though, they let me know that the trembling is not born out of unhappiness or uncertainly.  
  
I feel more than hear Mei's pleased laughter. She would be happy for me, I know. Outside, the Ministry of Storm dance and prace in celebration, even as they glide away until only Yu Shih remains.  
  
I don't know yet what the future will bring. I have yet to discuss with my fiance when our wedding will be. I know though, that when the time comes for my own ceremony, my four friends will be there as well, just like I have been and will be there for theirs. After all, we are the best of friends and family.  
  
~OWARI~  
  
[1] In Chinese mythology, the spirits of water are the dragons.  
  
[2] These are the Ministry of the Storm, according to the Chinese mythology. Information about them can be found at http://www2.newpaltz.edu/~porath68/ 


End file.
